Take Me On A Holiday
by Siriusly Black Hearted
Summary: After watching her father die in front of her eyes, Rose Tyler feels less than stellar. Feeling guilty for having left her own time to discover other parts of the universe, she asks the (9th) Doctor to take her to holidays she missed between 2005-2006 to help make those days special, as well. The Doctor agrees and they set off on an epic adventure throughout this window of time.
1. Chapter 1

The thing about travelling through all of space and time was that in the same moment one could feel glad for the adventure but also deprived of the beauty of natural life. Natural life, to Rose, was what she left behind as a little human dwelling from a housing estate. One where she woke up every morning to the blaring of an alarm telling her that the time was always going to be 7:30 when she opened her eyes. The life where her mum made her tea with lemon (the Doctor only kept milk on board) and her boyfriend would give her a kiss that was sweet and searching. At times, Rose wasn't sure whether she really missed the structure of a boring, human life or rather that she longed for what she had always known. She was always afraid to tell the Doctor that she missed some things 'domestic' because he disapproved so fiercely, and Rose was never quite sure why. Maybe he thought that she would ask him to take her back and he didn't want that to happen. However, it was more likely that he was torn between loving the Earth so much and yet hating most of the people that inhabited it. It was a bit hypocritical actually, as he was always saving the place and ending up in the cesspool of the universe, as he so loving called it when his mood slipped into the foul side.

All this aside, she couldn't blame him for his feelings- how often had she wished…While she loved her mum, she knew that she was in every way ridiculous. Rose, with her teenage ambitions, always believed that her mum never wanted her to go far simply because Jackie herself had never gone far. She lived in the same hole since before Rose's father died and it was highly unlikely she would ever be supplanted. Mickey was the same. In some ways Rose did have feelings for Mickey, but he wished to hold Rose down too, or so she felt. She could never shake the way he clung to her legs like a child, begging her not to go when she did. She almost gave up what she had now for him, the same way Jimmy Stone made Rose promises and convinced her to throw away another life she could have had all for him, not for her. Mickey would rather she come down to him than he ever rise up for her and be the kind of bloke that she wanted. The kind of bloke Rose Tyler deserved. But her mom would tell her that Rose Tyler deserved nothing. Who was she to believe that the world owed her anything?

Still. Rose missed human relationships. She missed physical contact. She missed someone pushing back her hair and she missed the brushing of someone's bottom lip against her own. Her body clock was physically out of sync. It didn't matter when she woke up because time could always be relived. She could wake up and it would be four in the afternoon on Earth but the TARDIS didn't care about time. The TARDIS didn't care about days. The Doctor could take her anywhere but things were so easily lost on that ship. She kept a track of how many days she had been gone. She didn't mention it to the Doctor but they had bypassed what would have been Easter. They spent so much time going to days that history saw as special that it seemed like sometimes she forgot the days that she could have made special back in her own time. She shook her head. She had nineteen years to make those days special. But she never did.

Rose was in a brooding mood and she resolved that something ought to be done about that. She ripped the covers from her body and put her feet on the ground. A shower. That was all she needed. Early in the morning; her soft feet were bare and creaked on the staircase as she came down, stretching her arms into the air like someone reaching for everything above them; the atmosphere, the stars... In this case, the stars were no longer above her or below her. They were before her and after her.

Rose was awake. The Doctor had been up for some time- in fact, he hadn't ever put his eyes to rest. He laid there, in the dark, but never slumbered. It meant that he never dreamed, and for that he was grateful; instead he meditated on where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do next. He had heard Rose pass by his bed chamber. He was eager to have some other form of amusement now and her laughter was the best the universe had to offer. He creaked his bones, moving the joints in his neck until they made a satisfying pop, and sprung off his bed quite spryly and springy for an ancient alien, at least in comparison to such a young woman as the one he traveled with. He moved to sprint down the stairs but caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and paused, turning his strong chin in the air to the left and to the right. He needed a good shave. Right then... He looked older when he let the shadows grow and consume his face, especially his eyes. He knew this. So did Rose, because she was the one who told him. "I don't like seeing a shadow on your face, Doctor"… He made an expression in the mirror and casually flicked his big ears. This was the best he was going to get, for now.

He made it down the stairs in one piece but Rose wasn't there; he tried not to pull a face of annoyance. Honestly. After Rose, he was done with young women with all their grooming and fussing and facial hair insulting…They didn't appreciate the rugged, dark look of a man. But most of all, he disliked their rigid and complex regimen that resulted in their pretty looks. He supposed, in a way, it might have been worth it. He ran a hand across his face again. The floor shook around him; the TARDIS gave a great groan, and the Doctor looked at her large blue core reproachfully, running his hands across the controls.

"Oiy, that's enough outta you!" The TARDIS, for all of its beautiful imperfections, really had something against hot water. Convincing her to provide you with some when you were in the shower was hard enough, but she always shouted in protest as if she was being violated. "Let the girl get clean!" Taking his own advice, he decided it might be a good time to take care of his face. He left the console room in search for another bathroom (the 5th bathroom, specifically) that possessed a little fraction of the TARDIS down the hallway and left from the console room. He opened the medicine cabinet and took out an old fashioned safety razor and cream. He lathered up his face and started. His eyes softened as he did, and he recalled what he had previously thought to himself. About there being an 'after Rose'. He glanced behind himself like he half expected her to appear there and reassure him that she wasn't going anywhere, but the TARDIS was still groaning and the water was still running. Life after Rose. It seemed so much worse than what it was. But he had lived without Rose before. He had been bitter, and cold, but he lived. He could live without her now, surely. The razor glided across his skin.

The Doctor often wondered what it was about Rose Tyler that made him come back for her. There was, of course, no regret in his decision but at times he didn't- or wouldn't- fully understand it. It was good enough for him to feel that she had proved herself a worthy person to travel with. A worthy person to respect. And to-

"Dammit!" He exclaimed, as he nicked the underside of his strong chin. He very quickly finished off the rest of his face and grabbed a hold of some tissue and pressed it up under his neck. There now. His face was clean. He turned it back and forth again. The reflection had hardly improved. Not that there was much to work with. He sighed enduringly, as if his own silhouette in the mirror caused him pain constantly (though in reality, the thought hardly bothered him until he saw himself in a mirror) and headed back to the main control room. He realized that the shower had stopped running and leaned against the railing, facing the entire prospect of the engine and her gadgets. It was long before Rose appeared, fresh-faced and young and dressed in smooth jeans and a pink shirt and altogether lovely. He stared at her for a moment or two, before speaking. "Good mornin', Rose." She smiled at him, but it was a cold smile. Or rather, not as warm as he was used to seeing.

"Wotcher, Doctor. Did you cut yourself?" He nodded, solemnly, and she moved closer to him and batted his hand down to look at the underside of his neck. It was easy to do as she only came up about that high as it was. "S'not so bad, it's stopped bleeding at any rate. You're safe to throw that tissue out without an incident." He took the paper from her hands and aimed it at the garbage can like a ball, arching his back as he launched it that way and missed. He held up a hand to stop her from taking care of the mess like she usually would. Rose had a tendency to clean whenever there was a mess. The Doctor, in all his wisdom, thought this spoke mounds about her. He walked over to the bin and threw it out.

"Y'seem dull today." Her eyes flashed. In fact, Rose wasn't sure how he made this deduction but it was true, admittedly. She blew hot air from her bottom lip and rolled her eyes a bit, in that brattish way that at nineteen she still hadn't entirely shaken. He frowned at her. It was the complete opposite of what he had been wanting.

"I'm not dull. It's just. Well."

"Well, what, Rose?"

"I think I need a holiday." It was true. Maybe she had seen too much. She had survived hollow plastic robots, avoided being a sausage frying in a pan, narrowly missed out on being turned into a zombie, tumbled with a future prime minister in a cabinet during a missile attack…a Dalek couldn't kill her but she watched it kill hundreds of other helpless people while she ran. She was nearly dead because of her own inability to run fast enough. She saw the Doctor look on helplessly as she was left to die- she heard the heaviness, the throat and ache in his voice when he admitted that he thought he lost her. She knew what she felt in her heart when his voice broke. She knew what she felt when the Dalek asked him if he would save the woman he loved. He didn't confirm it but he didn't deny it, at least not completely one way or the other. But she wasn't a woman. Not really, definitely not to him. She was a kid, a young woman at best. She was, the Doctor had admitted, the best there was. He didn't want anyone else, and he made that clear. She didn't want him to have anyone else either. All of this aside, all this loyalty and devotion and friendship between them, it was still a lot to take. None of the pain and suffering and life and death situations she faced hurt as bad as watching her father die twice. She knew the Doctor hesitated to take her there for her own good. She knew that she had acted selfishly, and that she had thrown her feelings and the Doctor's feelings around that day, though she wasn't entirely sure what either of their feelings were. They both had hit upon sore points- the Doctor accusing Rose of using him, and Rose accusing the Doctor of wanting to be the only person in her life. They were both right, subconsciously, about in the other. Rose had used him to escape. But the Doctor has used her to discover himself again. It was a beneficial partnership. They both grew because of the other. She didn't want to leave it behind but she wished that their lives together- their adventures- sometimes could bit a bit more…simple. Less complicated. Fun. It was too heavy.

"Oh, lovely idea! We'll jus' go a bit back in the past, what say you to 1945? You can kill Hitler the same day he's meant to kill himself. We'll get it published, you'll be a hero, the day can be named after you and then you'll get your holiday!"

"That's not what I meant." She said in response to his snarky speech. He had hoped to make her laugh but it fell flat, obviously, like a child kicking an airless football. "I mean…remember Christmas, 1869? I missed Easter, 2005. If I was home then, the day before yesterday, I'd be eating baked ham with my mum. Instead, I missed the whole year of holidays. I was born in May. That's only weeks away to me, but to my mom I'm already 2o because I missed a whole year. If I'm still with you, I age differently. I can go to a holiday in my grandad's time but miss it in my mum's." The time had come already. He knew it would. He wanted to curse her up and down for it- stupid Doctor, for picking a stupid girl, a girl who would eventually long for home because who doesn't long for home? Who doesn't indeed, Doctor? He knew better. The Doctor knew better. Doctor… "That's not what I meant, Doctor…" She answered. He looked back up at her; his eyes were a cross between emotional and stoic, both hard and cooling at the same time, like salty seawater slapping against open wounds, but he hadn't parted his lips to speak at all. When he finally did move to speak- he felt himself almost unclenching his jaw, as if subconsciously he was forcing himself to have no reaction to her words. Obviously though, Rose had seen one despite his attempt to close himself off from her in those moments.

"Whatdya mean, then?"

"Take me to Easter, 2005." He raised his eyebrow at her.

"Rose…"

"It doesn't have to be back home. I know why it can't, crossing timelines or whatever. But that doesn't mean you can't take me to Easter, 2005 in France. Or to Easter, 2005 on a different plant. We can do both. We can go to a different planet that celebrates something else, but in 2005. I was supposed to be travelling, anyways. You said you can do anything. Everything." He furrowed his brow for a moment.

"Well…2005 is a tiny year, Rose. Your little race hasn' spread beyond the universe yet. I cant just take you to another planet and introduce you as…as…"

"Have you been to another planet in 2005 before?"

"Well, yeah but…I'm-"

"You're a time lord. You look like a man. Why can't I be a time…madam?" His furrow drove deeper into his skin. "Look, fine, forget the other planets for now. But can't you take me…I don't know, forget Easter. Forget it all." He didn't know what else to say, so he stood up and looked at the quiet engine of the TARDIS.

"I'll take you." He said, quietly. "I'll take you wherever you want to go." His voice built in sound, rising as he took a deep breath and very quickly added, "Easter is frightfully borin' though. Dull holiday, with eggs and rabbits and sugar highs. Tell you what. Let's do St. Patrick's Day." She smiled, finally. The Doctor smiled as well, drawing from her what it was he wanted so badly to see after the sleepless night he had. Some dawn in the morning.

"Where, though?"

"America."

"America. Right...New York?"

"No, Boston…Boston, Massachusetts, America, 2005. Go put somethin' green on." She bounced from where she was leaning, and made it halfway down the hallway before she turned back. She titled her head at him for a moment, as if there was more meaning behind what she was about to say than she'd let on. He thought for a moment that her excitement and energy were going to leave her again, and she'd tell him that maybe it would be best for her to go home.

"Thank you, Doctor." She leaned up to him and put her arms tightly around his neck. He was a bit taken aback by this for a moment. The Doctor was a touchy sort of man in the heat of the moment. But he hadn't been expecting her to press against him, to hug him like she thought that he might slip away. It was a shadow to how he felt about her sometimes- that she would just slip away and become another memory to him like everything else good and whole and beautiful that was once in his world and heart. He recovered by wrapping his arms around her and pressing his chin into her hair, forgetting about cut that had been made there because he could no longer feel it. He remembered the first time he hugged her- she was swinging from a rusty chain and he caught her and they clung to each other with total and debilitating eagerness- an eagerness that would bring him back to her, twice. An eagerness that made her abandon her life before. An eagerness that made it seem impossible for one to live without knowing more and everything about the other. He owed her a holiday. Several. He owed her his life. She pulled away from the hug, but kept one of her hands around his neck. She took her fingers and laid a kiss against them with her big, full lips and pressed them against the scratch on his skin. "I'll see you in a mo'."

Just like that, she left him again to get changed. There one moment, gone another. The Doctor placed a hand on the top of his cropped head. He had so many reasons to smile, but there was one thought- really, a tiny little boo-boo of an oversight- that made him smirk right now.

...Wait until she remembered the drinking age in America.


	2. Emerald and Diamond

Emerald and Diamond- St. Patrick's Day, 2005-

"I'm not takin' you into a city like that."

"Oh, what are you, my dad?" She retorted back, her hands balled and resting against her hips.

"American boys, Rose- let's just say they're all Mickeys- who aren' used to someone saunterin' in with an accent and a pouf of blonde hair like yours." Her shoulders were bare- around the rest of her body was a vivid green sweater dress that stopped above her knees, and she had on a pair of black tights for a bit more modesty. She was a jeans and sweatshirt kind of girl, normally. She didn't put a lot of importance into her clothes, probably because she didn't go anywhere where her normal outfit wasn't appropriate attire. But there was something oddly, oddly alluring about the pure enormity of the Doctor's wardrobe that brought out the worst in her. For a girl growing up where almost everything was hand me downs or borrowed from her girlfriend Shareen, it was pure ecstasy to have mountains and hills of outfits at her disposal. She felt like the Barbie she had as a child, dressing herself up and down, playing with hot pink heels and dreaming about all the things she could've been. The Doctor didn't just have pretty clothes- he had fancy dress costumes- nurses, sailors, librarians…But there was an obvious lack of accessories, save for a couple of gaudy hats and oversized scarves.

"You don't have any jewelry back there." She said, catching his eyes lingering around her neck. He looked away with composure and smirked.

"Cant go having a treasure trove back there- besides, what would you want? Diamonds? Earth diamonds are mostly worthless across the great universe, especially compared to the diamonds that come from Midnight, or Nottingham."

"There's a planet called Nottingham?"

"'Tis so. Tell you what though…" He pushed a lever up on the control board before walking to another section and lifting up a panel. The TARDIS gave a harrowing groan, and the Doctor barely missed a beat. "She's yawnin', bit tired, thousands of years of travel and knowledge in her, doesn' like it when I lift up her skirts. Old girl. Ah, here." He pulled out a cardboard box that looked suspiciously like someone had once spilled creamy tea onto it and opened it slowly, as if he forgot what was inside. "Well…It doesn't have a hinge or a chain. It's just on a rope." Rose watched him for a moment, just a moment. He didn't want to touch it. He barely wanted to look at it, but he couldn't control himself, letting his eyes wander over it. He held out the box to her and she looked within. It was a diamond, or so she thought, but it didn't look like any diamond she ever saw on a jeweler ad back home. It was impossible to say that it reflected light- more, it was light. It was almost as transparent as pure water, but something rose deep in its core, like a burning ember. It was, as he said, attached to a black rope- maybe made of leather but it was impossible to believe something that was so beautiful and so obviously otherworldly was hanging from a material that was easily obtained. However, it fit the jewel, in a way. All the attention was commanded by the jewel and the leather simply served its purpose. He moved the box closer to her, urging her to take it from him and she obliged; he let go so quickly it was if every second that it remained in his hands it seared them, raging hot and blistering. Curiosity got the better of Rose and she removed the string from the box and held it in her palm.

"Is this from Nottingham, then?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant but she couldn't completely master the tone, as she was worried about the Doctor…the darkness and shadow that fell across his chiseled, ashen face... He shook his head.

"No. It's from Gallifrey."

"Where's that, then?"

"It's nowhere. It was my home." Rose wasn't sure what to do. Of course it was. That's why it hurt him to see it, why it pained him. She still held it in her hand, like it was too fragile to let go of. How could she wear something like this? Every time the Doctor would look at her he would be reminded of what he had lost- and he was already reminded of it enough, as it was. Rose couldn't bear the thought of bringing him so much pain. She tried to put it back into the box but he was swifter, faster. He swiped the cardboard from her hand and shoved it back into the depths of the TARDIS. "It's a white point star- a type of diamond. It deserves to be out of that box." He made a twirling motion with his hands and Rose did as he gestured, put her back towards him. He reached around her for the rope and fastened it around her neck. His hands, after the knot was tied, came to rest on her shoulders. The moment, the Doctor realized, probably called for something to be uttered. Something about how he wanted her to wear it because it was a bit of his home, his past, and now his future…but the words escaped him or rather he pushed them away from himself, unsure of how to say what he felt. Maybe there was something he could have mentioned about how Gallifrey was the place he loved most in the universe, and how she was now the only person in the universe that he had allowed himself to connect with, but he didn't. He just closed his eyes for a brief moment. Tiredness that he hadn't known earlier swept over him now. Still. He let Rose move from his gentle grasp and put on a bright smile. He didn't want her to feel guilty wearing it. He wanted her to feel proud, like he couldn't. Like he shouldn't. What he had done ate at him- he could and never would be forgiven for it. "There- I think you're ready now. Give me two ticks. Jus' have to check the controls, make sure we're where I said I'd take you."

Rose did not have an opportunity to argue with the makeshift necklace, and she wasn't sure she would have fought him even if she had the chance. "Right. Well, are we here?" She asked, a couple of moments after he bounced back to the panels. The Doctor glanced back at her and gave her a true grin, an honest one.

"We're here." And Rose Tyler grinned back.

"It'snot as old as I thought it was." She stated, admiring everything that passed her way. It was mostly people, but they were so brightly and eccentrically dressed- wearing sunglasses made of beer mugs and orange wigs. The buildings were what she was referring to. They were tall in this section- made of steel and metal and intruding into the sky, shiny and new. But some of the streets were still lined in cobblestone, the heels of her shoes singing against the ground with an exciting click in each step. The Doctor had mentioned that he pushed boxes during the Boston Tea Party, and she was expecting him to have more information about this strange new place. Given, compared to some of the other strange places they had been, this was nothing…But he didn't offer many facts for her. He turned and gave her a smile.

"Well, you hafta remember, America is a young place. You've seen buildings older than this country in London alone. Old to these people isnt' all that old." She nodded at him, and continued her observation of the people. They were far funnier. They were walking, slowly. His arm was over his shoulder and she was laced into his hand, all of her fingers on top of his.

"I wonder if any of those girls know you're not supposed to wear orange and green together…"

"It doesn' matter as much here." At this specific moment, a rather pissed woman about Rose's mum's age passed closely by them and her hands wandered all over the Doctor's back. Rose looked over wildly and then, aghast- she watched as the woman pinched the Doctor's bum. He moved with alacrity, glancing at Rose before realizing where her hands were and that it wasn't her actions. The woman gave a great giggle and put her arms around both of them from behind, pulling their heads in to hers which was a feat all in its own as Rose was a couple inches shorter than her and the Doctor was much taller.

"That's what happens when you don't wear green, sexy! Unless you are wearing green underneath those pants…you could show me if you want; get rid of your sister!"

"I'm not his sister!"

"Your daughter? What, you're not married are you!?"

"Not now, no."

"You jerk, get off me!"

"Right." Rose said, as she broke free, "I think I need a drink." The Doctor smiled, as the woman moved on, and rubbed the sore spot on his bum. Rose adverted her eyes. It was oddly embarrassing, and had drawn lots of attention to them.

"Right…well, I'm sure we can find a coffee or something. I don' know about tea."

"Well…I was thinking something stronger than that, Doctor."

"The thing about America, Rose…They have a drinking age. You hafta be twenty-one." Rose halted and in turn, so did the Doctor. The look on her face was a sour one. She pulled him by the arm quickly off the street where the crowds were gathered for the parade that was soon to happen, and she gave him the stink-eye before pining him against the wall with her hands desperately on his shoulders in despair. She was rather good at that look, having practiced it before, and he had the decency to look a little sheepish despite also feeling a little bit flustered. "A drinking age, a drinking age Doctor, you've got to be kidding me! This is a party holiday, for God's sake!"

"We'll just try the psychic paper, look, here- here's a pub." The sign read O'Leary's and Rose continued to give the Doctor the look all the way inside the bar until they began to fight their way to the counter to order a drink. The bar was small, more of a dive than anything particularly fancy. Small tables in the front were abandoned as everyone gathered around the actual bar in the middle of the room, cramped, and spreading out almost to the wall. The Doctor and Rose were separated by the crowd of loud, rowdy people screaming and chanting and singing Irish songs. It was strange hearing them done without a traditional accent, so strange. She must have looked a little lost. But still, she used her shoulder to push through the people- men raised their arms and let her get through. But she was stopped by an arm tapping on her shoulder. She turned, expecting to see the familiar face of the Doctor.

"Can I buy you a drink?" A voice shouted at her. She looked her volunteer up and down, and gave a grin.

"Yeah, I think so. I'll take a…Newcastle Brown?" She requested and the man laughed in return. He was tall, almost as tall as the Doctor, with dark, clean-kept hair, gorgeous pearly white teeth, and chunks of muscle cut into his arms, rippling down to the areas Rose could not see. Good lord, he was handsome.

"I don't think they have that here, sweetheart. You're from across the pond, aren't you?" Rose nodded. "Let's get you one of ours. Two Sam Adam's Cold Snaps! And, two double shots of Jameson to make the lady feel at home." The gentleman placed $20 (it was a good thing he was buying her a couple, she realized, as the Doctor had failed to provide her with the correct currency) and took the ordered drinks, placing a beer in one of her hands and the large shot glass in the other. She didn't even need to psychic paper. "Bottoms up." She tilted her head back and downed the shot; though she disliked whiskey, she liked the thought of a strong drink right now. The man gave her a look that was caught between interested and searching before moving to finish his. Rose caught him staring at her, observing her neck and the dress that was clinging to her body. When he finally looked back up at her, he winked and Rose blushed a little but bit her bottom lip. The man raised his eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak- however, at this moment, he was shoved and lurched forward, colliding into Rose and spilling his drink down the front of her dress as she tumbled backwards to the ground. Great. The crowd began to clap, softly at first, but then quickening their pace. Rose burned red, and covered her face with her hand.

"You move fast." Even though she couldn't see him, she closed her eyes at the sound of the Doctor's sardonic tone, as if that would take away some of the shame. The nameless gentleman had also fallen quite conspicuously with her. This was even more embarrassing as the pub began to whistle and shout at the situation, making cat calls and encouraging them to 'do it!'. Rose took down her hand and opened her eyes, forcing herself to sit up. She rolled her eyes, both at the Doctor and at the American patrons.

"Foreigners…" She muttered under her brother. The Doctor helped them both up roughly, or at least it seemed to Rose, and he held out a handful of tissues to her from his pocket which she used to try to mop up the raging scent of alcohol that now encompassed her. She took a quick look down at her dress and hung her head slightly. "Right. I'm just going to go…wash up a bit. I'll be right back. Don't. Don't go anywhere." She ordered, her eyes catching the handsome stranger and the Doctor.

"Hurry up." The Doctor urged. "Parade's goin' start soon."

"I won't." The man answered, with a confident tone that Rose interpreted as honest. But Rose was too busy to notice as she scurried away. The Doctor, however, was not. Not to mention that he was also not distracted by the good looks of the man. He heard the falsehood in his voice. The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, and casually nodded his head up to the man. He was really sick of referring to him as 'the man' in his head. It was already so full of noise. It was hard to keep track. The Doctor studied the man. He wasn't sure what there was to like. He was a couple of centimeters shorter than himself. His face was sculpted, perhaps not as much as the Doctor's own and that was probably for the better. He had too much hair. His skin was admittedly perfect, fresh-faced and untainted by any open cuts from shaving or worse…This boy, the Doctor observed, with a bit of a puffed chest, was probably incapable of growing facial hair. Of course he was. He was a pretty boy. A hot blooded, American pretty boy. But, that was what Rose liked. What she wanted, what the Doctor could never give her.

The man didn't seem fazed by the loss of Rose's presence. He simply turned his attention to the Doctor, and the Doctor was left with the impression that the boy thought himself _smooth_, undaunted it seemed, by the normal conventions of society and freely took in the Doctor's appearance as well, with more intentions. That was a bit odd. Not totally out of place for people to be more open about their…quirks, but still, odd…Then again, it was a different country, different place. Even if it wasn't as different as another time.

"So…is she your girlfriend?"

"No." The Doctor answered quickly, but the man clapped a hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

"I like you. You're very serious. That's really attractive, very intense. But I guess I'm a little confused as to why someone like you would be here in the middle of Boston, during one of the busiest days of the year, with a scowl on your face and a rather gorgeous blonde in tow that is not your girlfriend, wearing a trinket around her neck…"

"I'm waitin' for someone to buy me a drink." The Doctor quipped. He was getting irritated now. "What's your name?" he asked, shortly.

"Jack. Jack Dawson." Jack made eye contact with the bartender again and gestured for another two beers. He offered one to the Doctor who took it against his better judgment. Alcohol affected him differently, being a Time Lord and all, than it affected humans. He had gone toe-to-toe with humans before and lost with very little integrity. At least in this life. It was a common story. He was predisposed to being a fan of alcohol. He was predisposed to being dependent on it. Still. He took a sip. "And you are?"

"Oh. Right." The Doctor fished his hand in his pocket and showed Jack a slip of paper from inside. Jack immediately tensed up and downed his beer.

"Right. Well. Doesn't help if I tell you you're handsome, does it?" The Doctor tried not to furrow his brow.

"Not really, mate." He answered. He wished, desperately that he could see what the paper told Jack, but at the same time he was enjoying the look it put across Jack's face, with his even, American teeth and normally sized ears. Jack took one more look at the Doctor before placing his bottle down on the counter. Then, and the Doctor was not surprised in the slightest, he took off as fast as he could, slamming his way through the crowd back into the streets of Boston. He briefly thought for a moment that it was a good riddance, and then he remembered Rose. Rose was going to be a bit upset, and would probably blame the Doctor for Jack's departure. And that was only half true. It was obvious from the beginning, at least to the Doctor, that Jack wasn't the type to trust. He knew that face- he could read men well, all across the universe and time. But Rose was still young and inexperienced. And used to having a beautiful face that would always melt someone's heart. He considered going after Jack but remembered that he had promised he'd stay put. He didn't know why. He sort of felt a funny sense of loathing directed towards himself. He wanted to go after Jack because it would make Rose happy. The same reason he agreed to take her here. He might have hoped that he would find a measure of happiness, too. Instead, he stood at the bar surrounded by people with no one beside him. He finished his beer quickly, not wanting Rose to see, and began growing impatient for her arrival. Whatever the hell was taking her so long now was beyond him. He got rid of his bottle, crossed his arms, and moved by the arch of the back, away from the crowd, close to the bathroom.

Rose was a bit put off by this experience so far. Boston, she observed, was beautiful but still droll. It reminded her that in her life before, she would never have escaped the mediocrity that was waiting for her before she met the Doctor. These people were content getting obliterated and finding someone to take home for the night, content going to their banal jobs and taking standardized tests and never questioning what the purpose of it all was. They may excel in their jobs, their tests, but what good would it do them or the world or the universe? Rose was a common girl- she was a dime a dozen in ways; she was a drop out and never finished what she had spent most of her life being groomed to do. None of it applied. Nothing she could have learned in school would have prepared her for what she did now and she knew that. But if the Doctor hadn't found her and taken her and helped her grow, she would have been like them all out there. A flower trying to grow through the crack of a city sidewalk, a rose smothered by asphalt. She sighed and shrugged to herself in the mirror as she looked up to see if she had made any progress with the wet spot in the dress. Still. Being normal did have its pluses, it seemed.

Rose was a hormonal young woman. It could not be denied. She had sex for the first time when she was fifteen. She didn't enjoy it then. She only did it because everyone else was- a textbook case of peer pressure. It wasn't until she was with Jimmy Stone that she knew why people cared so much about sex. It became pleasurable. With Mickey, it was great. In truth, it was probably the reason she missed him, harsh as it was. She missed the feeling of hands wandering around her body, lips on hers. The Doctor might be 900 years old or whatnot, but he still looked youthful even though he appeared to be a man old enough to be her father. Rose would have no such luck. She had a short amount of time where men would still find her to be attractive. She knew this. She knew it shouldn't matter. But it did, and that was the truth of it fully. The Doctor would politely tell her that it was her domestic nature but what it was- it was her primal nature as a human, to be wanted and desired. She knew that he didn't want her like that. Their relationship was deeper and she wouldn't trade it. But she couldn't control that part of her. She looked up again. The spot was lighter. Still noticeable, but at least it wasn't embarrassingly wet, like she was a slob. She threw the paper towels out and moved her hair away from her face and observed herself. She placed one of her hands around her neck, cupping it for a moment and gave another sigh. She lost the confident feeling she had in the TARDIS when she first got dressed, that she looked beautiful. She remembered the first time she left the wardrobe and came down stairs, in period dress, and the Doctor sort of told her so. She had been gone for too long now. She moved towards the door to go back into the bar and join the throng again. Her hand was not wrapped fully around the handle before she recoiled and dashed back in front of the mirror to assure herself that she was only hallucinating, but she knew that she hadn't been. She observed her reflection again in horror.

Rose sprinted out of the bathroom and looked for the Doctor in such an urgent manner that she had passed through the arch without even observing him. The Doctor smirked wryly as she looked around wildly, assuming that she was looking for both him and Jack, but his smirk dropped when she called, "Doctor!" and finally met his eyes. She looked troubled- upset and angry and hurt- and he moved towards her quickly, grasping her by her elbows, pulling her closer to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Look! Look, it's gone! It must've fallen or…no, where's that guy who bought me the drink?!" Rose stated. The Doctor let his eyes wander down to her bare neck. The white point star was gone. He looked back up into her soft brown eyes. She needed him to say something, he knew it, but he wasn't sure what.

"I knew it didn' seem right to trust him. He was very…odd."

"Odd how?"

"A walking anachronism." She didn't seem to understand him, but the Doctor knew she did and the words finally came to him. "It's not your fault. We'll get it back."

"But how?" She asked, again. The bar suddenly was rushed with sound- the parade was practically on top of them, and the people inside resounded with excitement. The Doctor knew they had to get out of there to try and rectify the situation. The Doctor let go of Rose's arms, but took her hand instead, pulling her with him as he pushed his way out of the bar, trying to escape the noise. Out on the street, the roar of the crowd was no better. The parade had started to turn down the street, and no one was allowed to cross. There were barriers and barricades. There was no way back to the TARDIS now. He turned back to look at Rose, and she looked up at him and shrugged her shoulders. She knew what he wanted to do and was alright with it. "Just…don't let go of my hand." She pleaded. He grinned at her, and Rose grinned back, in sheer awe of what they were about to attempt. There was no other option.

"Oiy! Pardon us!" "Clear the path!" "Move it, let us through." "As you can clearly read here, MI-5!" "We need to speak to these…bagpipers, now!" "Move it, thank you!" They both bellowed like the innards of the aforementioned instruments themselves and climbed over the metal bars separating the crowd from the parade. An officer approached them but the Doctor flashed his credentials, and Rose walked with authority with him; the officer nodded and moved aside and the duo joined as seamlessly as possible behind the marchers, a couple of which turned to give them dirty looks. The Doctor pulled Rose farther down the parade line, now that they were under the barricade walls and they ran down the sideline with the Doctor's other hand extended, showing the psychic paper as a blur to the officers they passed. Luckily, they finally ran into a group of marchers who had with them a green DeLorean being pulled on a float. Rose looked excited at the thought. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake, it would be a DeLorean. Alright- climb up the back of the float and get in the thing. We'll take this for a ride around the block while we chin-wag." He let go of Rose's hand as the parade stopped, the band in front of the float with the car on it performing for the crowd standing there, and the crowd cheered as the pair opened the gullwing doors and sat themselves inside.

"A DeLorean…a pair of time travelers…in a DeLorean…" Rose couldn't help herself. The last few minutes, the running, the shouting, the adventure, had made her heart race and she felt flushed with excitement again, despite their situation. In reality, the Doctor didn't seem concerned about the diamond from his home. Or maybe, he was confident that he could get it back. Rose wasn't sure. The Doctor laughed himself, in a jolly mood now- parades were always such great morale boosters. No one could resist the happiness that radiated from them. He adjusted the seat so he could recline back, and folded his hands behind his head. Rose observed his goofy pose but realized that there was nothing that seemed more comfortable in the world and did the same.

"Right…well, now we can talk a bit easier. Now, why would he run when he saw the psychic paper?" The Doctor asked. He had a way of talking to no one in particular, not to himself and not to Rose, rhetorical in nature but he wanted a response.

"Did he give you his name?"

"Jack. Jack Dawson." Rose snickered and the Doctor looked at her a bit surprised.

"Doctor…my name is Rose. You probably don't know this, being from another planet and whatnot- but Titanic…The main bloke, his name was Jack Dawson."

"I know history, Rose- it's my specialty. I've stopped a family from getting on the Titanic before. I couldn' stop the whole disaster, but I saved…point being, there was no Jack Dawson on the Titanic." He said, waving his finger. Rose snickered.

"That may be so, Doctor. But they made a movie about it in 1997. And Leonardo DiCaprio played Jack Dawson. He fell in love with a rich woman named Rose, and she let him freeze to death in the water instead of sharing her floating door. I think I'd remember something about that. His name isn't Jack Dawson."

"Well then, alright…it's a fake name. A fake name, but he still ran. That's odd. And he tried to chat me up a bit…S'not entirely out of place, I'm quite handsome and all, but still…it doesn' seem right. Not wrong though…just…out of time. Why would he buy you a drink, steal the diamond, and then linger? He was banking on the fact that I wouldn' notice…he must've…"

"Do you think he knew it wasn't from Earth?"

"He had to." The Doctor confirmed.

"Why?"

"Listen, Rose. A white point star is like the TARDIS; they're both bigger on the inside. Earth diamonds- all diamonds-they grow millions and millions of miles below the planet's surface after millions and millions of years, and diamonds all form from carbon- well, where I come from, Rose, they are like everythin' else that's a part of me and within me. Time is…time was different there. Diamonds are compacted differently. When you look inside a white point star, it shines like light isnt' reflected from the facets but that it's inside and that's because it is! There's fire. One huge combustion that's just ragin' on endlessly. That jewel contains enough convertible carbon-based energy, to the right civilization in the right time, to sustain a planet for a millennia. That's why someone would take it from you. Either that, or Jack Dawson just thought it was a pretty gem and it'd look nice on a brooch, but I know people and faces. I've trusted too much in other people and not enough in myself before and I can tell you that he's not from this time for sure now. He called it a 'trinket'. That's strange language. Language says a lot about a person. No one would call THAT a trinket if they thought it was worth anything as a diamond. Remember what I told you before, about Earth diamonds no longer being worth anything after humans spread across the universe? He knew that it was valuable, and that it was extraterrestrial! He ran because…because the paper showed him exactly what I was! The Doctor. A time lord! Somethin' he didn' want to find. Because he knew I can find him anywhere he goes!"

Rose was silent as he hashed it out with himself, but she smiled as he started to build up with excitement. Sometimes her company meant more than her words. The Doctor moved fluidly; he unfolded his hands and plunged one into the pocket of his leather jacket. He took out the sonic screwdriver. She gave a slight shudder.

"While you have that out, can you do something about the heat in here? Like, turn it on?" The Doctor rolled his eyes but peeled off his jacket from his body (which was difficult to do in the DeLorean, 'stupid car, fake time travel…' he grumbled inside of his head) and handed it to her.

"I've got two hearts, a lot of blood pumping to keep me warm. Don' lose it though, it's my favorite jacket this go around. Now, hush up a mo'. I can use this to pick up the carbon readings. As long as we're not within more than ten kilometers to a coal-fired power station (and I shouldn' think we are) I can use the sonic to scan for a carbon-powered…yes, yes! Got it! The culprit is not more than a mile due west from here. Wonder what sort of establishment we'll find him in this time. No need to take the DeLorean, we can hoof it from here. Come on, come on…out the door. Hope you enjoyed the parade." He said quickly, but Rose reached over to him and grabbed his hand. He looked back at her, his other hand and screwdriver pressed onto the door of the DeLorean, ready to push it forward. She didn't know what she wanted to do now that she stopped him. She simply smiled at him and brought his hand to her lips, pressing a quick, teeth chattering kiss to them. He was right. He was still warm. He looked at her and curled his fingers tighter around hers out of reaction- he was confused, but not cold to her.

"I loved the parade." She smiled and pulled away. She got ready to open her door. She turned away and the Doctor shook his head. 'Women…' He thought, with a small smile.

"One…two…three!" They both pushed and the gull-wings lifted and they clambered out. The Doctor jumped down from the moving platform first and ran around to the side where Rose was. She jumped down into his arms and he helped her land steadily on the ground. She rolled her eyes at him with a good natured smile.

"Hey, I was a gymnast. I can stick a landing without your hands on my waist."

"Who says you cant? Come on, let's go find Jacky-boy." He held out the sonic screwdriver and she took it gently, placing it inside of his jacket in the pocket where he always kept it. He gave her a grin, and Rose felt infected with an exciting happiness.

It was the last place on the block. A residential building that rose high above the streets. It looked, much to the Doctor and Rose's dismay, like there were several flats inside. They entered into the main hallway, quietly and the Doctor observed the doors before turning his attention to the sonic screwdriver.

"Right. No eye-holes on the doors. And the screwdriver isn' giving us any more than it's happening in this building. Too big to get too specific. We'll have to just wing it. What's something that everyone would open the door for?" Rose shrugged her shoulders but rapped lightly on the door next to her. It opened half way and a small, mousy brunette opened the door as if separating an old book- cautiously.

"'Scuse me, but…I'm looking for bloke. Tall, dark hair, handsome looking. He was supposed to meet me at the restaurant down the road. I think he's stood me up, and I want to give him a piece of my mind."

"Must be that Jack you're looking for. He's upstairs, apartment above mine. Always bringing all sorts of strange people into his apartment. They don't leave until the next morning. And I can always hear them. You won't be the last, sweetie. Don't let him charm you." She shut the door again. Rose was honestly surprised that had worked. So was the Doctor.

"Well then. Up the stairs we go."

"Don' start thinking that's going to work across the universe. You stupid apes, you fall for anything and anyone."

"No, only the really good ones." She answered back quickly, bounding up the stairs before either of them had time to ponder the meaning of the words. Language was a very peculiar thing. By the time they got up the stairs, the Doctor has lapsed Rose in distance and held a hand out to her to stop her from getting closer to the door. He went first, put his hand on doorknob and slowly turned. It was unlocked. The Doctor casually opened it and strolled in.

The apartment was meticulously clean, as if the renter would be departing on a moment's notice and never wanted to worry about the mess. Neither of them made a sound but moved hurriedly into the apartment, not touching anything but searching rapidly for any sign of what they came all the way over to reclaim.

"Well then. This is a surprise." Rose looked up at the sound of the voice and gave a little squeak before adverting her eyes. The Doctor whipped around to face Jack, expecting him to be holding a weapon, but his eyes widened in shock as he realized the man was fully unclothed. It was an uncomfortable situation all around, except to Jack, who merely wore his best grin. "It's okay, you can look, miss. It's not a crime." The Doctor was close to Jack's couch and tossed a throw blanket that had been carefully draped across the back of it.

"She's only nineteen. Put some clothes on!"

"Nineteen…well, that's legal in this country. Besides, I don't think you'd have any qualms with it if it was-"

"Right, right- can we just get to the point, gentlemen? Jack, I think you took something that belongs to the Doctor." Jack seemed totally unfazed by the entrance of two strangers into his dwelling. He had loosely knotted the blanket around his waist like a person would do after emerging from the shower and made his way to his small kitchen, removing a milk container from the fridge and taking a gulp.

"Doctor…that's a doozy of a name. Mind if I call you, 'Doc'?" The Doc shrugged his shoulders. "Well, to be fair-when I took it, I knew it wasn't the missus', but I didn't think it was really yours, either. My vortex manipulator is set to randomly scan for alien tech every hour. Imagine my surprise when it actually went off. I was starting to feel a bit bored. And then I saw what it had catalogued- a white point star all the way from the land of the Time Lords…Where I'm from, you're only legends, Doctor."

"And when is that?" The Doctor asked, severely, as if the mention of being merely a story irked him.

"51st century. Jack Dawson- I'm a time agent."

"Rose here says your name isn' Jack Dawson. That's a name that belongs to a character in a movie."

"Titanic." Rose chimed in, positively, with a smirk. She sat herself down on the edge of Jack's couch and the Doctor leaned on it beside her.

"She's right. Damn, I thought that was over a century ago. I'm sure you know what it's like, Doctor. So much pop culture. Everything changes. It's hard to keep track. My name is Jack. Captain Jack."

"That was a prominent character from the 2003 movie-"

"Captain Jack Harkness."

"Now, that sounds like a name, Jack." The Doctor looked at Rose for confirmation. She could not think of a movie character associated with that moniker and concluded it was fair enough.

"Right, I'm glad I've passed your trivia knowledge…If you don't mind me asking, Rose is a girl from this time, right? I can tell by the hair and eyes, and most notably, by her knowledge of popular movies. But seriously- people lose that shine and brightness as the decades go by. Everyone's eyes seem a bit duller…But, that doesn't explain how she stumbled upon a Time Lord. _I've_ never met a Time Lord before. I don't think anyone in the 51st century has. There were a couple of you floating around before then, traced back a couple of decades, but then suddenly you were gone. And so were the Daleks. Biggest enemy this universe ever had to face…It's assumed you both went off to fight each other." Rose shuddered at the mention; this time she was not cold, but reliving some of her time with the Doctor that she'd rather forget. She had met a mad Dalek- she watched it kill and struggle with the humanity she had given it by mistake. He was somewhat merciful in the end but she couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if it wasn't mutated. It thought being a human was monstrous and Rose wouldn't deny that. Some humans were sick and cruel and terrible like any other race that could possibly exist in the universe. But the Daleks…it was rare that one of them was capable of tender emotions and even the Dalek hated himself for those very human and powerful feelings. It was a terrifying thought. The Doctor heaved a sigh. Rose knew what he was going to say, how it hurt to say it. She kept her eyes on his face, but he refused to look at her. He kept himself fixated on Jack.

"Time Lords and Daleks. Two civilizations born to hate the other so vehemently. They're both gone now. All of them, both of them. Except for me." Jack didn't falter under the Doctor's gaze. "It was a war between both our species. More than just my kind and their kind lost. Ultimately, we battled to save the universe. So your time could still exist. We're gone. Time Lords become the stuff of legends and mythology like Greek civilizations, all those years, that history and that future that we knew of. All gone." The moment grew tense. Rose was unsure of what to do. But she trusted her instincts, those very human instincts, and cleared her throat lightly before she interjected.

"So you can see, that white point star is important to him. Give it back." For the first time since they barged impolitely into his apartment, Jack seemed uncomfortable with the situation presented in his rented apartment.

"You must be pretty important, too. I took it from your neck. Sweethearts…" he said, with a sigh, "I'd give it back if I could, but I've already called it in. I'm a time agent, remember? This was actually supposed to be my vacation time. The agency has dispatched another team to come and retrieve it for transport. They'll be here any second now. You know time agents. They're never late. I'm sorry." Jack held out the milk gallon to his visitors but both the Doctor and Rose declined with small movements of their heads. The Doctor folded his arms across his chest, a brooding look sweeping across his face darkly like stars burning out throughout the sky. Rose bit her bottom lip and slipped her hand through his crossed arms and wiggled her hand through until she found one of his and roped her fingers into his very naturally. He clasped her as well, tightly wound – both were, subtly afraid, to let go.

Jack Harkness stared at the two beings in front of him for a moment. The Doctor denied that this young woman was his girlfriend and he could see why. There was nothing and yet everything romantic about their connection. He hurt and she wanted to heal. Her actions weren't based on physical attraction or lust but their souls calling to each other in a way he hadn't seen in a long time. Without speaking they seemed to say everything to each other. A funny sort of spasm in his chest compelled him to look away, and he feigned a sudden need to put the milk back into the fridge before it spoiled as an excuse to turn his back to them for a moment while he thought about a way to remedy the situation. He was a high ranking Captain in the time agency. Technically, the possession of a white point star by any non-agency approved civilian was a high-crime due to its level 459 clearance. But to take a white point star from the last remaining Time Lord? There was no fairness in that. There was no fairness at all when it came to the agency and the Time Lords. The Time Lords had always thought the agency an unwelcome organization. The time agency always saw the Time Lords as arrogant and controlling pricks, unwilling to share the beauty of time manipulation and travelling with anyone else. A younger man than Jack Harkness had always dreamed of travelling the universe and time. With only one life on one planet it seemed so small. But he had come so far. Rising up from an unknown little peninsula to make a name and a rank for himself was no small accomplishment- to let the Doctor and Rose take the star back was signing his own warrant. Not that he couldn't fight that, of course. Hell, he'd already escaped execution in 2409. That was an undercover case he'd never forget. Mostly because he really had escaped by getting under the covers. His mind was wandering down the wrong course. The question was still there and it needed to be addressed. Did he let them go? He turned back towards them, figuring he had been staring into the fridge long enough and brought a strong hand up to his black hair. He groaned.

"Oh god, I'm getting soft." He inconspicuously looked down at his crotch to confirm to himself that this was only a joke. "Alright, alright. Look. Take it. It's in the bathroom, next to the toothbrush holder, by my vortex manipulator. Take it and go." Rose glanced up at the Doctor and gave him a big smile. She broke away from him quickly, and bounded over to Jack, placing an indelicate kiss on his cheek. "Okay, okay, maybe I was joking about the going soft thing-" Rose smacked his arm playfully as the Doctor moved down the hall and into the bathroom.

There was something redeeming in Jack Harkness, he thought. He wasn't heartless. Maybe misdirected and crude but not cruel and malicious. He found the aforementioned room and let himself in quietly. The diamond was there, glistening on the sink like Jack had said. The Doctor had second thoughts about going to retrieve it himself now that he was there. He looked up into the mirror- and saw his face distorted by the fog and condensation on the glass. He picked up the little jewel and turned it over in his hands. Never before had something so little ever felt so heavy. He needed to give it to Rose, and get it out from his dirty, rough hands.

"Got it!" He called back, but as he turned to make his exit the hair on the back of his neck raised up, and he heard muffled noises, as if someone's mouth had been quickly covered. Rose talked about human instincts often and how he sometimes lacked them (he would argue that they were not just human instincts but universal). But this feeling that rushed through his body was a time lord instinct. He could sense time shifting and changing and something compelled him as he put the white point star in his pocket to also grab the other instrument that Jack had referenced was in his bathroom. A vortex manipulator. He scooped it up and fastened it around his wrist hastily with a bit of distaste in his mouth. It was so primitive feeling. He then quickly darted out of the bathroom and back down the hall.

The scene in the living room had rapidly deteriorated and he wasn't one hundred percent sure what he was looking at-but as usual, he had enough information to make an educated guess. A lanky but lean redhead who seemed to appear from nowhere had Jack's arms lifted above his head in a position that looked threatening and painful, but Jack could barely contain his excitement. A tall man, tan skinned but blue eyed had Rose's arms pulled behind her back and she stood with her fists balled in pain and inability to fight the grasp. These must be the time agents that Jack spoke of. But why they were holding his friend and Jack hostage, the Doctor was unsure. Some information did have to be given to him on that note.

"So it is true. Jack found himself a time lord."

"Easy, sweetheart," Jack said, "he isn't mine or anything. Lilith, I don't know what's going on. Just let the blonde and the bloke go. I'll give you the white point star."

"I don't know how you got promoted, Jack- you must've slept with someone high up to get to be a 'captain' with your head buried that far up your ass."

"I don't recall either of you complaining about what I did with your-"

"Hello, I'm the Doctor. Do y'mind tellin' me why you're trying to assault my friends Rose and Jack here?" The Doctor interjected. So far he had only been talked about as if he was incapable of speaking. He loved the thought of proving them wrong.

"You and your girlfriend are criminals. As for Jack Harkness, Darrick and I have unfinished business with him. The time agency has decided it will no longer benefit from the employment of Captain Jack Harkness. Or, at least it will when I tell them that he didn't kill the last remaining time lord in existence." There was a very poignant pause.

"So, remind me again, what good would killing me do?" The Doctor asked, more confused than frightened.

"Oh." Derrick finally proved that he was capable of speaking. "Time Lords are a wanted species. For universal genocide."

"Universal genocide?" Rose asked, stunned. Derrick forced her arms back harder. The Doctor tried to control his facial features as Rose looked up at him in silent pain. She steered her eyes away. It wasn't doing either of them any good.

"The Gelth, the Ristenburgers, the Nestene…A long list of species eliminated due to the actions of the Time Lords, made like all of their other decisions and rules- without the consultation of the intergalactic community." Lilith confirmed. Jack, at this point, had found no more humor in the situation.

"You rotten bitch. You're going to kill him because he's the last survivor of a brutal war?"

"No, I'm going to kill him because that's my job." Jack groaned.

"Oh God. You and Derrick are back to being executioners?"

"First day after being reinstated to the job; took us years to get over that blunder of not killing you. Unfortunate for you to call us now." Lilith stated sadistically, a large grin spreading across her face.

"And here I was, just hoping to get lucky," Jack couldn't resist from saying.

"Interesting as this is- why can't you just kill me, defrock Jack or whatever you want to do with him, and just let Rose go?" The Doctor interjected.

"Oh, well, we're quite fond of playing with our food before we eat. Aren't we, Jack? Lilith has a taste for blondes, and who am I to deny my wife anything?" Derrick asked. Jack scrunched up his nose. Rose stood there silently. The Doctor stared at her, his eyes narrowing and focusing but she refused to look up and show him that tears were starting to well in her eyes from the pain and a bit of terror. Jack turned to look at Rose as well. She was a strong young woman. He would get her out of this alive.

"Let Rose go, and I'll come quietly." The Doctor stated. There was no bargaining. It was a promise but not a barter. If they didn't take the opportunity, the Doctor would not give them any mercy.

"As opposed to…?"

"As opposed to not coming quietly." The executioners cackled. The Doctor did not move a muscle and slowly the room came to heavy silence. "Rose is still a civilian of this time! She is not bound by intergalactic laws because her society doesn't know that they even exist. She has no crimes on her hands. Let her go. You cant kill her without bringing the time agency under fire."

"While that is true, I can't very well let her go. As you pointed out, her time probably hasn't even met an alien species. How can I send her back into it knowing what she does? And, you're no use to us without your ship, Time Lord. There is so much to learn from your autopsy and from your ship's dissection."

"You'll never find the TARDIS!" Rose shouted. "Never. And even if you did, you'd never get in!"

"Ah, so spunky. And sexy. A bit of a child though, isn't she, Derrick? Shut her up."

"Love it when you get all bossy." He said sarcastically, before wrapping a hand around Rose's throat from behind. The Doctor lunged forward and Jack struggled, but his hands were pinned too well- but Derrick tightened his grip and Rose gasped. He had let go of her hands but she was still useless against him. She had nothing to do. She mouthed the word, 'Doctor' but no sound came out. "Don't move a step further!" The Doctor halted immediately, unwilling to hurt her any worse.

"Rose is right. You'll never get in the TARDIS. I'll bring her to you. I will trade you one life for another. That sounds fair enough for any executioner. I'll give you the TARDIS, and you let Rose go."

"There's still one more component missing from that deal." The Doctor rolled his eyes at Lilith.

"Right, I'll come quietly. But I don' want Rose hurt." Lilith raised an eyebrow, but gestured anyways for Derrick to loosen his death hold on the young girl. Jack gave a sort of indignant cry. "Or Jack. Don't hurt or kill either of them."

"How do we know you'll be coming back?" Derrick asked, and the Doctor glared so fiercely that he began to feel uncomfortable.

"I'll be comin' back." The Doctor said- again, it was all the clarification needed.

"You wouldn't know what we did with them. You'll be dead before you ever see her again, or Jack. But, a deal is a deal. And to show you that I intend to follow through on that, I'll let you even say goodbye. She won't remember you, anyways, Doctor. We can't have her returning to the 21st century with all those pesky stories in her head. Who knows what she's seen. You might as well make it count." Lilith stated, gesturing for Derrick to release his captive. This time Derrick let Rose go completely, and she ran forward automatically, throwing herself into the arms of the Doctor. She pressed her full lips against one of his ears and breathed quietly into it.

"What are you doing?" She asked, through what the Doctor assumed were silent tears; he could feel their wetness against his face, like a kiss.

"Keeping you safe. Like I promised." He answered, flatly.

"Please, don't, Doctor. You've got to try. I can't live without you." The Doctor didn't know what else to say. There was a chance, there was always a chance, that this could be the last time he'd see Rose Tyler. She wouldn't remember him anyways; she would go back. The lump rose in his throat. She would go home. To her mum and tea with lemon. And Mickey the idiot. And she'd live out the rest of her life in the dull estate when she could have sparkled across the universe, been a star. She would never know that she could have been amazing. That she was amazing. The Doctor knew, right then in that moment, the person he was afraid of saying the truth to- was himself. He knew what he should say, what everyone had said for him. But he couldn't admit it. He had already sacrificed her once, allowing her life to be spared in exchange for everyone else's. He locked her down in a vault to die. He protected himself.

"You are fantastic," he declared, placing his hands around hers. "You are so fantastic. You will live a great life without me, Rose." He pressed something into her palm, and she wrapped her fingers around it tightly, slipping it down her shirt and into her bra inconspicuously. She knew what it was. The white point star. She broke away from him for a couple of seconds- the seconds were too rare, she knew, to spend the time apart- but she gave him back his jacket, slipping it from her arms with a shiver. He took it heavily. It was warm from her body.

"I didn't lose it." She said, softly.

"Knew you wouldn'." He replied, with a sad smile. "I lo…look, I'm comin' after you. Don' do anything stupid. And don' let Jack do anything stupid, either. Keep your head down. And hold on to your memories. Don' let them take it. None of it. Remember, all of that darkness, there's always light. Light in the darkness…" He whispered, with his accent rolling through the words. It would take too long, he thought, to program the vortex manipulator. And he'd be leaving Jack behind as well. Jack was willing, it had been revealed, not only to let the Doctor escape with the star but also his life. It was only fair that the same be done by the Doctor. He couldn't take Rose and run. Run. That's what they did when they first meant. He whispered to her and she came, like a breath of fresh air rushing through his system, reviving ash-filled lungs and dead eyes. Rose nodded, placing her head against his. They had been in many life and death situations. But this one seemed impossible to get out of. The Doctor had literally bargained his life for hers, and her memories were to be erased. There was no one else in the room. No one else mattered. No one else ever would. She refused to believe that after all of the amazing things the Doctor had showed her and promised her that this would be it. Not now.

"Please! Doctor, don't do this!" Please don't let this be the end, her eyes pleaded. Derrick was pulling Rose now, more gentle than before true, but it hurt more than anything else he could have done to her. "No! NO! STOP IT, STOP IT!" She thrashed, but Derrick was twice her size and expected the fight to come from her. He kept a tight hold on her wrist, and lifted the leather flap that concealed his vortex manipulator around his wrist.

"Two hours from now. The address is 43 Faolchu Dana Drive. It's an agency safe house."

"No!" Rose, shouted. It was selfish of her, to want to keep her memories, but she would rather have her Doctor alive than dead. "You can't do this! Doctor, just go, and take the TARDIS and leave me! GO!"

"Doctor, I'll keep her safe!" Jack roared, but the Doctor had no answer. It didn't matter how much they called to him. He had to watch them go. And- they were gone. They disappeared like smoke and the Doctor checked the Vortex Manipulator around his own wrist and entered the coordinates and base code for where he had parked the TARDIS.

The time agents had made a couple of disastrous mistakes: first, they threatened to kill the Doctor. It wasn't the first time, but if he managed to get out of this mess, it certainly wouldn't be the last. Still, his death wasn't a looming doom. He was a survivor of a tragic and harrowing war, one that burned and left wounds on himself that couldn't be grafted or healed with regeneration- they were scars he would carry until death. He was not afraid to die. In some ways, the Doctor would welcome death. An old friend. He wasn't anxious to go, but he didn't mind the thought as much as he could have. And that was stupid of the time agents, to overlook this point that this man, this Time Lord, this Doctor, was not afraid to die. Their second offense, and much greater in proportion to the Doctor, was that they hurt and threatened Rose. The Doctor had been in this universe for 900 and some odd years. Very odd years.

He had all of this time. But Rose, she only had a fraction of the time that he did. She was beautiful and whole, and they threatened her to get to him. They pushed his buttons, and that irritated him- that his affection for her was so easily manipulated and that she was harmed as the result. They hurt Rose Tyler. That incensed him. With a manic sort of rage, he pushed and pulled the levers on the TARDIS, opening panels and compartments that had been left alone for so long they creaked in protest, but the Doctor pushed her harder, forcing them open to get to hidden controls. "Voice interface command!" The Doctor shouted, and a hologram version of himself appeared. "I need you to engage security protocol nine. No access to the TARDIS by any organic creature except myself, or Rose Tyler! Do you get that, only us two! Set lock defense to destruct. Anyone else puts a key in you, I want a five minute countdown for internal self-destruction, countermanded only by my voice. You got that?

"Affirmative." He was silent, crouched over the main controls, with his head in hands. His head was too full. He had to clear it out, he had to get Rose and Jack free.

"Do you have any ideas?" The Doctor asked himself.

"Don't die." The Doctor rolled his eyes at his own voice coming from across the room.

"Close interface!" He pushed down the lever and the TARDIS shrieked in return; she didn't like being told off and she resented even more the fact that she had been ordered to destroy herself if things went sour. Some sparks rose from a hole in the console, and the Doctor observed it for a moment before he turned away. Then something struck him. He halted abruptly, took the vortex manipulator off of his wrist, and scrambling for some wires, hooked it into the main control panel of the TARDIS with rather inappropriately timed laughter. The idea finally came to him. He took out his sonic screwdriver and began to tinker with the vortex manipulator.

He was coming for Rose Tyler, all right.

Rose felt stomach sick. The travel was so different than what the TARDIS normally provided (given, the TARDIS was a bit bumpy at times) and on top of that, she had never felt so desolate. The room was entirely dark. She had been released and was shoved away from Derrick. At first she thought she had collided with a wall, but upon hearing another groan, she realized her head had smacked into Jack's mouth. Lilith had released him, too, and both of the time agents tinkered with laughter.

"Just sit quietly in here. We'll be back for you in a couple of moments. Play nice! Enjoy the dark." She closed her sentence in a sing-song fashion. It gave Rose the chills, and there was a flash of light before they were gone. The room had gone black. Her eyes needed time to adjust. She put her hand out and felt part of Jack's body- she hoped it was his arm and he didn't say anything inappropriate, so she assumed it was. He found her as well, and pulled her closer to him.

"Rose, are you alright?"

"No."

"What did the Doctor tell you?"

"Only that he was coming for me." The room was hushed, but something was distinguishable over the white noise. It sounded like feelers, Rose thought, with a shudder. "It's so dark." She couldn't shake the feeling of something crawling up her back. "Jack?! Jack, can you feel that?"

"Rose, I don't want to alarm you, but either your nipple is radioactive, or something is glowing in your dress…" Rose looked down quickly, noting that Jack avoided her question, and she shoved her hand down her bra to remove the white point star, which was glowing platinum hot- giving the two of them light like a torch. She smiled for a brief second. The Doctor. Light in the darkness.

And then she really wished that she hadn't looked around her. Her arms, her legs, her thighs, were surrounded by tiny little black bugs about the size of buttons. She was too terrified to yell.

"Jack…what the hell are they?" She whispered, as if it would rectify the situation.

"They're what we call 'Flounders' in the industry. They are micro neuro-bots. They're bottom-feeders. They thrive off the thoughts you don't want. Bad things. They're preparation for what Lilith and Derrick will want to extract from you before they erase it. Your knowledge. They clear up the clutter."

"I want it all." Rose said, fiercely. "There's nothing I would want them to take."

"Focus on one memory, something strong, that they wouldn't want. Something that wouldn't be palatable to them. They'll start to ease off. But, if you let your mind wander, they'll attach on." Rose closed her eyes and focused. Woman Wept. The fractals of light. The temperature- everything was frozen, but no part of her was cold. How the continent appeared as a woman, sobbing- a menacing click broke into her thoughts- weeping, no, no, no weeping. The Doctor took her hand, and they weaved in and out of the frozen waves. No one else around, no buildings, just the two of them. She sighed. They sat underneath one of them- hundreds of feet in the air and clear as glass- they pressed their bodies against them, curving into the frozen sculpture with their backs, conforming to the shape…what happened next? They talked, they joked…what could have happened next though…

Something came into her mind at that moment that she realized needed to be said. She pinched the under-side of Jack's arm to break his concentration and he hissed.

"Hey sweetheart, in case you can't remember, I'm sitting here in nothing but a blanket, on top of a pile of bugs, trying to focus on the good in my life-"

"That's just it, though! By focusing on our good memories, we're giving the bugs enough time to eat our bad ones by separating it for them. But, what if we imagine? Something that's not really a memory? Then they can't tell. They have to do it themselves. It buys us some time with the stuff still in our heads, to try to keep ourselves together!" Jack did not answer her for a moment and Rose was unsure if she had just elaborated on a good point or if she was terribly naïve and stupid.

"Love the way you think! The Doctor would be proud," Jack said. "Now, shut up, because I have just the fantasy I'm ready to indulge in…" He joked, grabbing Rose's hand to reassure her that he was still there. She pulled away.

"Better not involve me." Rose warned, closing her eyes, glad that her thoughts and imaginings would be her own.

The Doctor had decided long before not to wait two hours to come for Rose and Jack, and he was sure the Time Agents weren't expecting him to actually obey that order. It was pointless to tell a Time Lord when to come to some destination. He would come when he wanted. He parked the ship in an alley beside the residence that he was told to arrive at, and clambered out of the TARDIS, turning back to her one more time and giving her side panel a brief pat, lovingly. She was a good old girl. The Doctor wasn't so sure he would be coming back to her again. He liked to think positively about it though. Goodbyes never were his forte.

It was a tall, industrial building down by the harbor- the air smelled salty and there was less hustle and bustle- it was a weekend, businesses were at a halt, and the parade was still marching on. Even if it wasn't, it was still St. Patrick's Day and there were plenty of drinks to be had. The Doctor felt guilty. He couldn't even take Rose on a lousy holiday without one of them getting into trouble. He supposed that is what made their time together so exciting. He found a side entrance and tried to jimmy the handle. He rolled his eyes at the 'secured' door, removed his sonic screwdriver, and released the pin lock, walking inside quietly. The white noise overwhelmed him- all that he could distinguish, suddenly, was something that made his hair stand on end, and nearly made him double over. It was a scream, a man's scream- "YOU KILLED HER!" And it was Jack's voice. He felt no blood, no heartbeats, nothing but fear and dread at the words and the sounds and the echoes. He ran. He ran. He ran like he told Rose to, he could not stop his feet because they were beyond his control. He had none.

Rose found that her imagination had more power in the dark; she stuffed the white point star down into her undergarment and closed her eyes, drawing her hand away from Jack. She was sure that his thoughts were dirty. Rose was unsure of what she wanted to imagine, but she knew she had no time to hesitate. It would just have to come to her naturally. She was a natural at some things, she supposed. Empathy and emotions were her forte. Not storytelling and book reading and…it felt like something had pinched her and she realized with horror that it must be the tiny bots leeching on her memories. She crushed her eyes harder so that white dots were spinning in the darkness and began to spin herself a story. The basis was on partial memory, it had to be to feel as real as it needed to. Woman Wept. She'd go there. The Doctor and Rose sat under the crystal waves. They were laughing; the Doctor's face was rough around the edges, almost like he was carved too far- his face, his ears…they were wonky and imperfect but refined and handsome, one of a kind like a strange piece of art picked up at an intergalactic flea market or something. His face was irreplaceable; his face was bare from shadows, and his eyes were bright. The sunlight behind the glass-like wave was like the white point star- its beauty was defined by fluorescence and reflected, twinkling like a sea of diamonds. The Doctor was sitting there. He took Rose's hand. He asked her what it was like inside of her head, because he was so curious as to his blonde companion. He understood the concept of time and life and growing and changing but he couldn't wrap his mind around the way she thought, the way she saw. The universe, as a whole, wasn't a mystery to a Time Lord, but here she was- a young woman from London- and as much as he knew her he couldn't understand her. She tinkled with laughter, and she told him her head was mostly useless. Filled with every day domestic thoughts, even when they were sitting there on another planet, she was thinking about something human- she was thinking about contact and how important it was to feel another living thing, to know that another living thing is in sync with you, your feelings. She bit her lip like she always did and the Doctor nodded his head in understanding, but it was a different type than the kind of understanding a person received at the end of a professor's lecture. It was an understanding, without empathy. The Doctor couldn't feel it the same way Rose could, so he thought. But she knew better. He could feel it, empathy, so much so that's what tore him apart. She pressed his hand against her lips, he took his eyes away from her but not hand. He left that, and she spoke into his fingers, and she told him that even if he didn't or couldn't know it, that he was in sync with her. Always. He turned back towards her, and didn't deny it. He nodded, and agreed. He wasn't alone anymore. He had Rose. That was enough for the two of them. There was no use in defining it. Hell, though. This was her imagination. The Doctor told her that he loved her. In her head, Rose wouldn't say it back. She thought of sassy and sarcastic remarks, she thought of pulling a sci-fi one liner and saying, "I know", but what she ended up deciding on was leaning over and kissing his abstract face full on the mouth and- the Doctor was kissing her back, his hands wrapped around her face not like two people kissing but like two people feeling; two beings. Two life forces that needed the other simply to survive, to feel, to motivate and empower and encourage to move through the day. It was a kiss, they would say, to stop all time. Everything around them froze and as the sun rose higher the rays of light grew hotter and brighter; it was rising. Pretty soon, the inferno would break the top-

"Rose, Rose! Rose, someone's coming!" The dream was broken by the reality. That there was every chance, as it stood now, that Rose would never have the chance to say anything of the sort to the Doctor like what she just imagined. That she would consequently never get to kiss the Doctor and even worse, that there was a chance she would never know how wonderful and amazing he was. She'd forget what his face would look like. The door opened, and the electric, humming light from the hallway flooded the room so fast that Rose had to conceal her eyes due to the pain. She had no time to react. Derrick, it seemed as her eyes adjusted, was pulling Jack out of the room with a gun placed to the back of his head, and Rose started screaming.

"You can't do that! Let him go! Let him go! You promised you weren't going to hurt him!"

"I have had about ENOUGH of you today!" Lillith shrieked from outside the hallway, marching in with a loaded gun. "You listen to me- you shut your mouth, you do not make a sound, otherwise I will blow your head off and so help me god, I am not kidding. I've got a lot of fetishes, doll, but right now, I'm about to cross teen blondes off of my list. I'll be back for you myself once we're done with Jack- and you just sit there and see if you can find a way to forgive us. I want to be able to play nice when I get back."

Rose was covered again with darkness. Now, without Jack, she felt hopeless and lost. And alone. She tried to get back to where she was, but she had sunken so low and desolate that her imagination had given out. She felt like the soul was taken from her. She wasn't sure why the Doctor had left her. The Doctor had never left her alone like this before. Sure, there had been once or twice when they first started their partnership that he made a couple of bad judgment calls, but he always came back for her. He always saved her. He never left her sitting alone in a dark room, captured by strangers with no friends. How did they even get there? She felt something poking into her chest and took out the bright diamond. She remembered the Doctor giving it to her. She didn't remember why it wasn't around her neck. Hadn't he tied it there for her? Rose fumbled around behind herself until she made the knot, and she let go, letting the jewel rest around her shoulders. There. It was safe with her again. But where had the Doctor gone? Who were these people that had her in a prison cell? What was she supposed to do again? She was scared, confused and lost. And she clung to whatever thought she could find any solace in- the Doctor. He would come for her. She didn't know why or where or how she ended up where she was but her Doctor…he would find her. They were in sync. Always. She could almost remember…how she got in here. No, no…she knew how she got in here. She just had to remember.

Across the building, Jack marched quietly, shaking his legs occasionally as he walked to free himself of the remaining bots. He thought about Rose, how she probably and already forgotten him. She was lost down there in that cell, trying to hang on a will to fight. He didn't believe in praying, but he found himself wishing to no one in particular that she would have the strength to hold on for as long as it took. Jack saw the Doctor and Rose together. He knew that he would come for her. He just hoped that it would come before it was too late and there was no one worth returning for, at least for him. Derrick had removed the gun that was pressing into the back of Jack's head and replaced it with a hand that stroked the hair on the nape of his neck every so often. Jack was quite flexible in his tastes, but even this wasn't exactly a turn on for him. Lillith lead, as she always did (Jack did like a dominatrix, as it stood) and she finally made an abrupt right turn into a room that looked briskly like a dentist's office and Jack shuttered. Half of the reason his teeth were so perfect had to do with a rather strong dislike for the dental profession. The thought of the dentist and the drilling scared him more right now than the thought of death at the hands of the tanned giant and the red witch. It was a story for the books though, about their magical romp…

"Are you going to make this difficult too, or are you just going to sit down like we need you to?" Jack shrugged his shoulders and walked over to the slightly elevated and reclined seat, stretching out. "Secure him, baby. You know how I like it." Derrick wrapped Jack's legs and hands with the leather bondage, tightening them a little roughly. Jack raised an eyebrow and Derrick rolled his eyes. Jack got the slight impression that Derrick seemed a little out of spirits. That wasn't the right word. Derrick seemed miffed. A little…jealous. It seemed that Lillith's exploration and openness were starting to wear thin on her dumber, less attractive counterpart.

"Alright, you've got me tied down. Now what- you're going to have you way with me?" Jack asked. Lillith giggled in an almost school -girlish way, walking over to Jack and letting her fingers run up and down his body provocatively.

"Maybe. Derrick, baby, what do you say? Can I have him?" She asked, mockishly. Derrick blinked at her.

"No. No you can't." Lillith raised her eyebrows, as if it was the first time Derrick had ever said no. Jack felt a quick elation of glee. Derrick was turning. Derrick would let him go. That jealousy would eat at anyone.

What he didn't expect was for the gun that Derrick had kept trained on his neck the entire way down the hallway to make an appearance now, pointed at his wife. People could change on a dime. Jack knew this, but he hadn't seen it often. He had known Derrick and Lilith for a long time; he thought he knew both of them quite intimately. He supposed in hind sight it shouldn't surprise him that one of them was willing to betray the other, as the married couple both had decided to turn on Jack-but there was a level. There was betrayal. And then there was brandishing a gun at the person you've vowed to love.

"…You going to shoot me then, Derrick? Like you'd have the balls."

"Shut it, Lil." Jack had the funny sort of feeling that Lilith was dealing with the situation incorrectly. She was goading him. And Jack's heart began to race.

"No, you shut it. Put the gun down, you moron and just-" but the shot rang out and Jack screamed in shock, a flurry of curse words bursting from his throat. He couldn't believe what he had just saw. He wasn't entirely sure if he felt grief or rage or fear. He was locked to a bench, formerly trapped by two psycho nympho executioners- and now the situation had morphed to where he was trapped with one violently psychotic murderer widower with a loaded pistol.

"YOU KILLED HER!" This fear and disgust is what the Doctor had heard from the front of the building. Jack struggled against his bonds, while Derrick advanced, the gun still drawn and pointed at Jack's crotch.

"You need to shut up. I'm not going to tell you again. You're going to shut up"

"You told me again…"

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE? I will blow your hole open even farther, Jack!" With a maniacal energy, Derrick moved the frightening equipment over Jack's face, like a lamp, and the rays engulfed his forehead with a burning hot red light. Jack groaned.

"You're still going to wipe my memories? I thought we were past this point."

"I've still got the Time Lord coming, and I've still got the girl. And I've got this one all…bloody and dead…" Derrick began to panic, it seemed. "I need your memories wiped or you dead, but the Time Lord will already be dead and I can pin Lillith on him and-"

"And you really didn't think this through." Both Derrick and Jack whipped around, to see the Doctor, leaning casually against the door frame of the room, his arms crossed against his leather jacket, a sharp, wild look across his face. His eyes were like flames. Derrick moved to raise the gun at the Doctor, but the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Don't even bother," he said, and held up something that looked suspiciously like a paper mache box, with a myriad of colorful wires tied across it and through it. The vortex manipulator that had belonged to Jack was attached to the back. The Doctor, while not overly fond of his enemies, preferred if the situation was resolved without anyone dying. He felt a sick sort of happiness that rushed through his body, with guilt following closely behind it for his reaction, but he was beyond relieved that it wasn't Rose. Rose was somewhere else. Probably alive, probably safe. This had to be dealt with first. At this point, any sort of real plan the Doctor had seemed null and void. Lilith, it appeared, was the ring leader and now she was dead. There was no need to negotiate. Only take charge.

"What's that then, a bomb?" Derrick asked, rolling his eyes. The hollow look the Doctor gave him back unnerved him.

"Actually, yes." Derrick lowered his gun. "Great, we've arrived at that point. Now, toss the gun, there's a good lad- here's the thing…Oh, wait- Two ticks, wait- untie that man." Derrick was used to naturally obeying orders, the Doctor observed as Derrick complied with his barking and he wondered what the man would be like now that he had murdered his wife. Alone. Jack was freed and he scrambled from the chair and picked up the gun on the ground, pointing it at Derrick. "Okedoke. This isn't just a bomb. It's a bomb circuiting off the time vortex. This vortex manipulator is coiled into the back of it-it's keyed into your specific molecular code. By boosting the mechanism in this one and programing the DNA reading system into it, I can patch a command into your vortex, too, ordering the erasure of your memories. Now, where is Rose?"

"So…so you weren't ever going to kill me?"

"Don' be stupid. No, I wasn't going to kill you. Not if I can help it."

"Not like you killed Lilith." Jack said. "Jesus, Derrick, she was your wife!" There was a silent moment, and the weak and unintelligent Derrick stared gloomily at his feet and it seemed that his mouth twitched as the thought swept over him.

He had killed his wife. Their relationship, at times, was volatile but it was the only solid thing in his life. Lilith had directed him and pushed him. She irritated every last fiber of his being but she was his, and he was hers. A sob ripped from his lips; it seemed as if the urge to cry possessed him so quickly he never had time to stop it. Jack and the Doctor stood still with a mix of discomfort and pity. The Doctor crossed his arms again.

"Can you do anything?" Derrick asked. Jack looked down at the woman's blood stained body briefly before bringing his eyes back up and shaking his head. The Doctor didn't want to look at the body. He contemplated for the moment what there was to do. There wasn't much pity he could show in this situation, but there was room for some.

"Where's Rose at?" The Doctor asked.

"She's down the hall. Locked in a cleansing room."

"Doctor, Rose has been in there for about…thirty minutes. It's possible that most of her memories from the last year could be gone." The Doctor glanced quickly at Jack, and tried not to show him what he was feeling.

"I can…I can wipe your memories the same time that someone programs this" he waved the bomb "to also take you back in time. You'll appear somewhere with no memories of how you got there. You won't remember, you'll never know…you'll never know that you killed her." There was no justice in this. No justice for Lilith. No justice for the Doctor, who's life had been threatened by this man, no justice for Rose who had been physically harmed by Derrick. But there was no relief or reward in the revenge, the pain. The Doctor knew that. Nothing would ever heal that wound. And he couldn't bring Lilith or anyone back from the dead.

"Basically, you mean me. The controlling manipulator is mine. It's keyed into my code." The Doctor nodded, a little apologetically, to Jack who suddenly realized his role in this. "Wow, so _no one_ was going to let me keep my memories." The Doctor smiled ruefully.

"Cant have anyone from the time agency remember me…I'm sorry." Jack nodded, and took the bomb from the Doctor's hands. He examined it for a moment, turning it over in his strong hands, before fastening the entire mechanism around his wrist. He looked down at himself, shrugging his shoulders that he was going to manifest in another time period with no pants, and smirked at the thought.

"How far back should we go?" Jack asked, to no one in particular. He thought of all the marvelous things he had seen and done in his life. There was so much there to be proud of, to hold on to. To empower him. He became a captain two years ago. He would never forget that. He was the Face of Boe- he had made people proud of him. He would go back 1 year, and 364 days. The last thing he would remember was becoming captain. Derrick would spend time looking for Lilith. Jack would forget the Doctor, and he'd forget about beautiful, little Rose. He knew he'd be angry. He knew that it would affect the rest of his life. But he'd remember, no matter what he chose to do after realizing that two years of his short life were gone, that he was a captain of the Time Agency. "Alright…two years. We're going back two years." Derrick nodded and dropped to the ground next to his wife and kissed her forehead. Jack looked at the Doctor, and the Doctor nodded silently back. He had to do something with the body. He wouldn't leave her here to rot alone.

"Take care, Jack." The Doctor said, striding forward to shake his head. Jack took it gracefully.

"Can't say I'm going to miss you. Mostly because I won't remember you." He joked. "Goodbye, handsome. And when you get to Rose…if she remembers me and asks, tell her she's gorgeous. Don't lose her." The Doctor wasn't sure what to say. Jack programmed the vortex manipulator for the correct date and time he chose and the Doctor scrambled and sent the pattern with the software in his sonic screwdriver. It was gathering power, and a whirring noise came from inside of it that Jack had never heard before.

There was a flash of light that gave off a heat that the Doctor could feel. Jack and Derrick were gone. It was time now to get Rose.

Where am I? Where is the Doctor? She felt like she had been bitten by a dog- the back of her neck was aching. She was terrified. Every breath she took was staggering; it shook her body like a branch in the bitter cold wind. Unbeknown to Rose Tyler, she had caught herself in a circle of thought. She couldn't remember how or why she was in the room. All former thoughts of that regard were gone. But she knew that she forgot- and tried to remember. It was a bad memory, but it was continuous. A loop in her memory. It couldn't be taken from her, and neither could anything else because she was so fixated on that. How, why, here, there. Remember. She had to. But there was nothing there. She wasn't sure if she felt anything.

Suddenly her world was flooded again with the blinding whiteness of light and she curled herself into her body, resting her face against her knees. It hurt. Everything hurt. She knew now that everything hurt and there was no purpose to anything. She wanted to cry out but she hurt too bad to cry.

"Oh, Rose…" She knew his voice, once. So she thought. The Doctor hurried into the room; the swarm of neurobots fled from the scene of their feast as the light flooded the room. Rose glanced at him but it was a mechanical gaze, and the Doctor's face was dejected- his eyes were soft, and his hands felt soft on her cheeks, but she was cold like stone. He lifted her head up gently and Rose stared through him like she was rotting from the inside out.

Rose looked so pathetic- she was more childlike than he had ever seen her. There was no beauty, no passion about her. There was only fear. She appeared hallow. The Doctor knew that he had lost her. He had left her alone too long. He should have came for her directly when he knew she wasn't dead. There might still have been time to prevent her from losing herself. From losing him. The Doctor closed his eyes and pressed his head against hers. "Don't go, Rose…"

Rose? She remembered. She was Rose. Rose. Rose Tyler. Did this man have a name? Oh yes, he was the Doctor.

"Light in the darkness." She whispered. The Doctor pulled back.

"What?"

"Light in the darkness…Doctor…" She hadn't forgotten him. The bots had stopped swarming Rose, due to the exposure of the light in such great quantities but they were attached to different areas of her body- they were draining her of her energy. If she was fighting them and their ability to take memories- which the Doctor now knew- she had to get them all off. He picked her up (he was getting old, his body protested against the added weight) and carried her out of the room and through the building. He looked back at the room containing the dead body of Lilith, and was glad Rose would not question or see it. When he reached the TARDIS, he fumbled to put the key in but she was not stubborn today and opened with no issues, letting the Doctor scramble in and lay Rose down gently on the floor.

He ran to the controls on the TARDIS and dug around for a pair of electric pliers- they allowed him to shock each neurobot and trigger them to release the skin. Slowly, he began to remove whatever he could see with his own eyes and gradually, with each one Rose's eyes began to clear, and her complexion steadily began to regain brilliancy. She was no longer ashen.

"Doctor…"

"Hang on, Rose, I've got to get these off."

"Back of the neck, I think…feels a bit stiff." The Doctor smiled at her compassionately, and he lifted her hair to see the main culprit. It had swollen to nearly the size of a clementine. It fizzled and died when he closed the pliers around it and broke off easily in his hand. With its removal, Rose felt a difference wash over her that came like night and day. She could think again. She could see again. Before, everything she saw was like a cloud- she could see the Doctor, but he wasn't brilliant in color, sharp in picture like he was now leaning over her, his hand on her face. It felt like everything before happened outside of her body. She began to sit up and the Doctor helped her, gleefully. "I…I still can't remember what happened though. I knew at one point, and then I forgot…But I can see you know. Before, you were sort of an out-of-focus mess. Like a Monet painting or something."

"This hard face? Bet it was better without the high definition."

"That's not true." She said, placing a warm hand against his cheek.

"Rose…what's the last thing you can remember?" Her hand fell to the diamond around her neck.

"The last thing I can remember fully, without it fading back and forth, is you-tying this on me." The Doctor nodded. She didn't remember Jack. She didn't remember the parade. She didn't remember him offering to trade his life for hers. Better, she didn't remember him saying goodbye, the pain that was there. She was the same happy Rose.

"Rose. Oh, Rose Tyler." She loved how he said her name. Like he was so proud and attached to it. He put his arms out and she moved into them steadily, letting him engulf her in a big hug, kicking her feet as he lifted her off of the ground. He set her down and ran wildly to the control board of the TARDIS again, turning her knobs and pulling her levers. The Doctor knew he probably shouldn't do what he was about to. It was only a couple of weeks or so, maybe a couple of days, that he crossed his timeline and Rose nearly collapsed the universe. But he promised her a parade. He'd take her to a different street. They would avoid going into a bar. He'd put his arm around her and she'd keep smiling that brilliant smile. "We've got a parade to catch!"

"You're not going to tell me what I missed then?"

"No, Rose. I'm not going to tell you anything. I'm going to show you everything I can. And you don't want to know what you missed. C'mon, c'mon, we've only got one shot at this. If you want a drink, dig one up now."

"I'm good, thanks. I feel like I've got a hangover." The Doctor smirked.

"Right then. Can I borrow your mobile?" Rose raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to use the TARDIS phone, it can be traced. When I did the jiggery pokery on your mobile, I made it untraceable, as far as time goes. That's important. And I need it." Rose handed it to him without hesistation. The Doctor punched in a number and Rose listened for anything that would give her a clue, but all he said was, "17th March 2005, Boston, MA 1:30PM, 43 Faolchu Dana Drive" and clicked off the phone. He handed it back to Rose, and she tried to search the impenetrable look on his face for an answer. He preferred to be enigmatic at the moment. The TARDIS landed again, and she groaned. The Doctor stroked her column lovingly. She was mad because she felt the closeness in proximity to her last arrival in Boston. The Doctor had only parked three blocks away. He tugged at Rose's hand, who had just noticed a small stain on her dress, but she shrugged and ran along with him as he pulled her outside into the sunshine.

She wasn't sure why, but Boston was beautiful. The buildings were younger than ones she had seen before but the city had an old soul. It was beautiful and fresh and the people were fascinating. She leaned her head on the Doctor's shoulder as he pulled her along to the front of the barricade. People in the crowd passed around buttons and Rose took one, pinning it to the Doctor. He raised his eyebrows at the message, with a little bit of sass, but Rose rolled her eyes and leaned up to kiss his cheek. The Doctor didn't quite blush, better yet, he seemed to have no reaction which Rose took as a matter of surprise. She had caught him off guard.

The crowd roared. The parade was passing down the lane, and Rose hollered and whooped and cheered. The Doctor smiled and bobbed along to the marching bands, occasionally glancing over to see the grin on Rose's face.

When the float carrying the DeLorean turned the corner of the street, the Doctor cleared his throat, but watched the little vehicle pass by without an incident. Safe inside was another Doctor and another Rose…Rose had no idea what had passed by, she only remarked about 'Back to the Future' and how time travel had nothing to do with a flux capacitor. The only question or worry on her mind when they left was wondering where they could go next that would top this. Top this day. Top this life.


End file.
